


Bite

by OzQueen



Series: babysitters100 [39]
Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: Canon Relationship, Community: babysitters100, Cooking, Curtain Fic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 02:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzQueen/pseuds/OzQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stacey poked the chicken tentatively. "Okay," she breathed. "Stacey McGill, the next time you decide to be all romantic and domestic, don't choose something so... overwhelming."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bite

**Author's Note:**

> So um, I might be answering my own prompt from the [BSC prompt meme](http://sweetcarousel.dreamwidth.org/112870.html). I wanted curtain fic - something domestic/fluffy/simple, and IDK Stacey and Robert decided to take over? It's kind of my head canon that Stacey would like to make an effort with things like cooking and domesticity but kind of fail helplessly at it all the same.  
> Also I have this set in the same universe as Silk (ch33), but much earlier than that fic takes place, and you certainly don't have to read that one in order to understand this one. I doubt it matters at all, I'm just mentioning it because that's where my head is at. ;)

* * *

Stacey kicked her shoes off as soon as she made it through the door, hefting the grocery bags in her arms. Robert followed and pushed the door closed with his elbow.

"It's funny how I can wait like half an hour for you to dawdle your way to a movie date with me, but at the first sign of rain you start sprinting," he said, nudging her as he passed on his way to the kitchen.

"Shut up," she said, poking her tongue out at him when he looked back over his shoulder at her. She tossed her hair, wrinkling her nose at the damp feel of it against her cold skin. It was just drizzling outside, but it was enough to send her hair into unruly fluff. She dumped the groceries on the kitchen counter and ran her fingers through it, hoping to tame it back to a more effortless curl.

The kitchen was gleaming, and Stacey cast a nervous glance at the oven. Cooking was not exactly her strong point, but it had occurred to her that cooking a meal for her boyfriend – a real, proper meal – would be romantic, and she had been taken with the idea of preparing something for him from scratch.

And Robert wasn't exactly going to turn down an offer of food. Ever.

"Maybe this was a bad idea," Stacey said, watching him pull the packaged chicken from the grocery bag. "Maybe I should start with something smaller."

"Where's the fun in that?" Robert asked, grinning at her. "What do you need, and what do you want me to put away?"

Stacey grimaced and pulled the recipe book down from the shelf. The spine still creaked when she opened it, and the pages were glossy and clean.

Together, she and Robert put away the groceries they didn't immediately need, and then he leaned against the kitchen counter and watched her with a grin on his face.

"You are so not allowed to watch me do this," Stacey said, turning her attention back to the chicken, reluctantly.

"Well," he countered, "once I leave the kitchen, you're on your own, McGill. No asking for help."

Stacey opened her mouth, but couldn't bring herself to dismiss him entirely. "Okay," she said eventually, "but no laughing."

"No promises."

Stacey unwrapped the chicken and poked at it tentatively. "Oh, my god," she said suddenly, "Robert, this thing doesn't still have the – the _stuff_ inside it, does it?"

She could see he was already struggling to contain his amusement. "The what?"

"The _innards_." Stacey bulged her eyes at him. "How about I do the vegetables, and you do the chicken?"

"The deal was _you_ were going to cook the entire meal for _me_ ," Robert said.

"I'll _cook_ it," Stacey said. "I just don't want to _prepare_ it."

"What did you think this was going to be?" Robert asked, taking a step towards the chicken. "You suggested it – I didn't have anything to do with this decision."

Stacey bent her knees and squinted, trying to see into the cavity of the chicken. "Don't they usually put everything in a bag and like – stuff it back inside? Do I just have to pull the bag out?"

Robert pulled the packaging closer. "Remove innards manually," he read.

"Liar," Stacey accused. She leaned over and inspected the packaging. Her stomach sank as she read the instructions printed on the label. "Why didn't we see that before we bought it? I know for a fact you can buy... clean chicken."

Robert laughed. "Clean chicken?"

"Well – chicken you don't have to empty!" She turned back to it, feeling increasingly hesitant about the whole thing. "This is so gross."

Robert laughed. "Just reach in and feel around."

"No!" Stacey squealed. "That's disgusting!" She grabbed his arm and pulled him closer. "You do it. I'll chop the vegetables. Meat is more of a guy thing anyway."

"The next time you smack me for saying something stupid in regards to gender equality, I'm going to remind you of this moment," he warned her.

"I just don't want to touch anything that can be referred to as guts," Stacey said. "Please?" She thrust her lower lip out at him and he laughed again.

"So this is what living with you is like," he said, moving to the sink to wash his hands. "I kind of pictured you begging for stuff, but in my mind it was always –"

"Robert," she groaned, rolling her eyes.

He laughed again and towelled his hands dry. "Okay." He reached into the chicken, and Stacey couldn't help but clap her hands to her mouth.

"That's so gross," she breathed.

"Where do you want me to put it?" Robert asked, wrinkling his nose at her. "Better get me a dish or something, Stace."

She danced on the spot for a moment. "I don't want you to put it anywhere!" she exclaimed. But she grabbed one of the empty grocery bags and tossed it towards him. "In there. And then you take it straight out, like, to the trash chute."

She turned away when Robert pulled out a handful of – whatever it was – and winced when she heard it all hit the bottom of the grocery bag. "Gross," she groaned. "Did you get it all? Don't leave any in there. I don't want to take a bite of chicken kidney."

Robert laughed and felt around inside the chicken again. "I think I got it all."

"You think?" Stacey asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

"Do you want to double check for me?"

"That's not even remotely funny," she sniffed.

He laughed and moved to the sink again. Stacey watched him rinse the chicken beneath the running water and then pat it dry with paper towel.

"All yours, Toots," he said, kissing her forehead. He snatched up the bag of chicken innards and disappeared with it.

Stacey poked the chicken tentatively. "Okay," she breathed. "Stacey McGill, the next time you decide to be all romantic and domestic, don't choose something so... overwhelming."

It wasn't so bad after that. Robert came back and they stood side by side at the counter as the cloud shifted outside and scattered more rain against the window. Stacey gingerly rubbed the chicken with spices. They chopped vegetables in a stupidly-synchronised rhythm, and Robert stuffed the chicken without once teasing Stacey about having to do it.

"Why did you let me choose something so ambitious?" Stacey asked him as he slid the pan into the oven.

"Two reasons," he said, straightening up slowly. "Because you're stubborn as hell and won't be talked out of anything once you set your mind to it." He grinned at her. "And," he continued, pressing a gentle kiss to her brow, "I kind of like it when you're ambitious."

She smiled up at him. "You do?"

"Yeah."

She frowned worriedly. "What if this tastes really, really bad?"

"We'll throw the recipe book out." Robert's hands cupped her waist.

"What if we don't cook it properly? What if we take a big bite of raw chicken?" She widened her eyes, not really worried (not _really_ ), but in the mood to gain more reassurance, even if it was slightly false.

"You're taking the first bite," Robert said. "And it'll be safe, because we'll cook it to the point of it being all dried out and crispy."

"Okay," she agreed, rolling her eyes a little. She stretched up on her toes to kiss him. "Well, so far, the entire venture has been a success."

"Agreed," Robert said, grinning. "And now we have what – like, a spare hour and a half on our hands?" He kissed her cheek, and her mouth.

"Hm," Stacey said thoughtfully. "I'm not so sure you have time for anything. I seem to remember you offering to make dessert."

"Sorbet," Robert said innocently. "I'll make it as far as scooping it out of the tub goes."

Stacey laughed and kissed him again. "I think I can accept that deal."


End file.
